Bad Idea
by Moral Mark
Summary: I guess you can scratch out the 'Sanest Person on this Team' title from your name. [Based on Runaways 2.19 preview. And yes, this is a freakin' pairing fic. Victor & Nico]


(Disclaimer: Runaways by Marvel. 'Nuff said.)

Idiot.

Stupido.

Congratulations, Mister Mancha, you officially suck.

I close the door behind me as softly as I can. The sound of the bolt clicking shut echoes in my head as it punctuates the conclusion that's been haunting me right since the moment this stupid mess began.

This was a bad idea.

Yep, Vic, you just tripped over your brand of stupid and made things a whole lot more complicated and weird. Guess you can scratch out the "Sanest Person on this Team" title from your name.

Really, what the hell was I thinking? What was my genius, grand design walking in there? Oh, wait, right.

Chase was nowhere to be seen in the hostel. Karolina and Xavin were gone. I saw Molly sitting next to the Leapfrog, and for the first time since I came here she wasn't smiling. She wasn't bouncing off the walls and laughing spiritedly like she usually does, reminding the rest of us that things weren't that bad after all, that all things considering, we were going to be okay. Molly just sat there, somberly holding Gert's glasses.

I don't know why I didn't check on her first.

I saw Nico's door cracked open just barely. Knocking softly with no response, I looked inside the room and saw Nico sitting on her bed, blankly staring at the floor. She had wiped off her mascera, though I could still see a tear mark across her right cheek, and another teardrop was slowly making its way down from her eyes.

"Um, hey," I said, almost coming out as a whisper.

She took notice, cocking her head up slightly as she wiped her tears away. "Hey, Vic," she replied.

"You mind if I, uh . . ."

"Sure," she rasped, patting the vacant lot of bed next to her.

And for the next five minutes, I sat next to her and we said nothing. I could have asked her how she was doing, but that would have been a ridiculous question. We could have said something about . . . well, something, maybe trade quips and cleverly poor one liners, but that would have been pointless. Really, what was there to say?

"I miss her," she finally said, breaking the silence.

"I know. Me too," I replied.

She reached her left hand over and held my right hand. Silence.

"Maybe this is it for us," Nico whispered. "Maybe fate catches up to us no matter what we do, and we're doomed to our future."

"I don't believe that," I said.

Nico looked at me. "Why?"

"Because I don't believe in fate. We're not performers acting out somebody's grand plan." I hesitated as the last three words of that sentence stung me with a shot of reality. Ultron . . . .

". . .I think we're accountable for our own decisions, so we make our own future," I finished.

"Heh," she smiled only slightly, biting her lower lip.

"What?"

"Gert use to say the same thing, about fate," she said, squeezing her hand tighter around my own.

Her smile then faded away, and tears began to well in her eyes. "But then, she's dead anyway. They both are dead . . . "

I brought her close to me as she buried her eyes on my shoulder and pressed her body even closer to mine. I felt her tears warm my shoulder and her body convulse as she sniffled. All I could do was hold her tight, comfort her with my arms around her body.

"Every day . . . the world gets more screwed up, and we can see it, but no matter what we do it just gets worse and worse . . ." her words trailed, lost in a stream of confusion and tears.

I pulled her away just enough so our eyes met again, brushing my hand against her cheek. "Then we just have to do what we can, one day at a time," I said. "That's all we can really ask for."

She was silent, but her eyes didn't break away from mine. Or rather, mine away from hers, I don't know. For what seemed like eternity we didn't move, our bodies close together, my eyes meeting her wet, sorrowful stare.

I don't know why I didn't break away.

"Nico," I said, weakly.

"Yeah . . . ?"

I don't know why I did what I did next. Maybe I wanted her to stop crying. Maybe I wanted to take her sadness away and convince her that everything was going to be okay. Or maybe it was because in all honesty, I really do -

Doesn't matter. Of all the possible decisions I could have done, I picked the most uncomfortably insane and ultimately stupidest decision in the book.

I kissed her.

And even before I hesitantly pressed my lips against hers, before I sucked in softly and she didn't pull back but returned my kiss in turn, before she and I sighed as we broke for a moment before coming in again more passionately, I could already hear myself, shouting in big, bold, giant sized letters -

This was a bad idea.


End file.
